


Don't judge a book

by kalika_999



Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [105]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ableism, Adopted Children, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Crushes, Deaf Character, Deaf Clint Barton, Disabled Character, HYDRA Husbands, High School, Learning Disabilities, M/M, Misunderstandings, Sign Language, Time Skips, Understanding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:14:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22869943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999
Summary: One situation with a deaf kid leaves Brock thinking not all disabled people are good.
Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow
Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [105]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/547894
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	Don't judge a book

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](https://kalika999.tumblr.com/post/190390300295) but it went a whole different direction, I'm sorry. Happy Birthday to Callan though, even if it's not in relation to it. It's just a special day and here's a fic. 💙

He put it down for just  _ one _ second. One! Just to make sure no one followed him inside the portable classroom to beg for a lick of his ice pop. 

It had taken Brock forever to convince the playground supervisors he wasn’t up to something, well he was. He wanted those blue slips. After he found out from Alexander that only good deeds granted him an entry to a weekly draw for a treat on Fridays, he decided to give it a go. 

It was a struggle at first, he messed up a lot, and Natasha kept teasing him to stop pretending, but he wanted to win. He wanted the prize and God, he was going to get it! Slip after slip of good deeds; from trash picking, to keeping the peace, to helping a couple of new kids find the bathrooms. They all got him the entries he needed to stuff into the brightly wrapped shoe box sitting as a submission box at the front office next to the principal’s and boost his hopes to win. Out of everything his elementary school had to offer, this was the best thing they had, and the one thing he wanted so badly.

He was lucky he was there to see it the first day, for Miss Hill to explain it all to him and reveal what he could win if he quit being there to be scolded by Principal McCoy. He couldn’t help it when he got sent up to the office though, everyone was stupid but him, it wasn’t his fault he had to prove it all the time. 

Brock decided to try though, just for the next four days, he had to catch up and when his name was called over the loudspeaker as one of their top three winners, Brock couldn’t believe it at first.

Now in the classroom though, the moment he turned around his popsicle was gone. All his hard work, all the teasing, all the jeering from his friends that he couldn’t do it and he did. For nothing!

It was then he saw the deaf new kid in the corner, reading something on the wall with his back turned but Brock knew exactly what he was doing and he stomped through the portable so the boy could feel the vibrations of what was coming at him.

Jack was his name, two weeks new, and he turned around in surprise as Brock seethed when he saw his ice pop in hand.

“Give it back!” Brock cried out immediately, before his hands were coming up to Sign. They’d all been learning since he arrived, some other kids came with him because a special school closed up.

He pointed to the popsicle with a bite taken out of it already, pressing a hand to his chest. “Mine.” 

Instead of giving it back like he should have, Jack only took another bite with a narrow of brows like he was being challenged, and then had the guts to close his eyes and turn his back to him!

Angrily forming fists, he was going to get his popsicle back no matter what, even if he had to stop the collection of blue slips and be sent to principal McCoy’s office again because that was _his_.

Of course, because life sucks, Ms. Potts walked into class and gave him a smile. Brock’s shoulders deflated and he stormed away to the cloakroom to hide. He hated ratting out other kids, he preferred to fix things himself, plus he wasn’t sure she’d believe him. The adults were always nicer to the kids with disabilities, it wasn’t fair, a lot of them were sneaks. 

*****

The memory of his stolen ice cream hit him like a brick, slouching a bit more in his chair as Mr. Coulson droned on about two new students joining them for homeroom. It was the dirty blond’s retro shirt; sky blue with patterned pink and white ice cream cones running all over it that got him. That and that they were both disabled, deaf kids. One had purple hearing aids, the one with the ice cream pattern, and the taller one looked like he was doing a rendition of Lennie from Of Mice and Men. It was the only thing Brock could think of after that stupid essay he had to hand in. Beside them, Wanda Maximoff was doing her student council bit, offering her interpreting skills Brock supposed and relating what Coulson was saying with sign language and ~~Lennie~~ Jack nodded, signing something back to her. 

Brock ignored what was being said and shrank back, taking a gander around the room to the other kids who were curious enough to all have eyes up front. He couldn’t help not being interested, he just wasn’t, and those glaring ice cream cones on the one kid, Clint was his name, only reminded him of that deaf Jack kid that went out of his way to be a dick to him. It was fine though, a few weeks later Jack had left and all Ms. Potts had said to the class was that his family moved away. Not that there was any progress after that day, Brock ignored him and Jack seemed to ignore him right back. He purposefully only learned enough Sign not to get into trouble for participation reasons because from then on it was cemented that not all disabled people were good, decent people and no one was going to change his mind, that was that. It still rang true for high school and if he didn’t want to listen to this crap, he wasn’t going to try.

Brock startled to a bony finger jabbing hard into his ribs as he stared out the window and he turned to see Steve staring back at him while pushing up his reading glasses on his nose. “Can you be anymore obvious you don’t like the new kids?”

See? Even Steve was disabled and he was an A1 jerk.

Steve struggled with asthma, astigmatism, had some kind of scoliosis he was under observation for. He had heart troubles up the ass, half deaf and a bunch of other crap under the sun. Despite all that, he wasn’t to be fuck with if you had a choice because he still tried to fight anyone and everyone if they pissed him off and he was a real smartassed jerk when he wanted to be.

“I dunno what yer goin’ on about.” Brock mumbled, trying to turn back up to the front of the class and pretend at least. 

“Pretty sure neither of them are going to steal your ice cream.” Rogers muttered under his breath with a shake of his head, going back to facing the front as well.

Brock blew out a rush of air from under his breath. The one guy he told in confidence and it was thrown back in his face at every chance the guy got. Dick move. 

He leaned in close to Steve’s desk so his voice was kept real low, speaking into his good ear. “Why’s the deaf kid’s goin’ to public school anyways? Don’t they got them special schools fer em?”

Steve turned to look at him like he grew a third head and Brock hated it. He was just curious. “Not all kids want to go to a special school, Brock. Jesus, why do I even talk to you?”

Brock leaned in and stole a celery stick from the bag of vegetables set on Rogers’ desk, he wasn’t in the mood for veggies but he wanted to chew something suddenly. “Because as much as ya hate it, ya love it too. Besides, we ‘ave good times, you jus hate me bein’ ignorant about disableds. Plus ya got a need to educate my dumb ass.”

“You are though, both ignorant and dumb.” Steve hissed out, and they both startled when Mr. Coulson cleared his throat and everyone was turning their way, even the two new kids. 

Brock apologetically smiled, sinking lower into his seat. He couldn’t afford getting into any kind of trouble with football on the line and he forced himself to keep his trap shut the rest of the time. The tall kid was looking his way though, even if he wasn’t exactly sure why. It made him feel uncomfortable.

Mr. Coulson explained that Jack would learn everything taught in class through sign language, visual aids and lip reading; and that after today he would have someone come in to assist him for a couple weeks, but since Clint used hearing aids, he’d be able to get by just like any of them. As their teacher spoke, Wanda’s hands moved rapidly, translating every word for Jack as Jack nodded along. 

For the rest of the period everyone kept looking at hands making regular motions, while Brock made an attempt to daydream out the window as much as he could, but happened to catch on and off how Jack creepily kept staring his way, like he knew something. It was weird and Brock tried his best to ignore him as much as possible.

*****

As luck would have it, Jack was in Brock’s English class and because Professor Xavier was all about them working together and not clinging to your best friend or whatever, fate decided to kick him in the ass. He was suddenly standing in front of the deaf kid, who was currently talking to his assigned interpreter with his hands.

Apparently the other kid, Clint, didn’t have this class and since Brock had no choice but to deal with what he was given, he forced down the argument starting to bubble up inside and moved his ass across the room the second they were allowed to. Not like he was the best kid in class, he didn’t know why it was his punishment to be paired with the new guy.

The last couple of days were a breeze of football practise, easy homework he didn’t have to worry too much about and the odd fact of realizing Jack was in a good chunk of his classes (no he wasn’t paying attention he just noticed. Shut up, Steve.) 

It wasn’t like he was looking when he felt like the other was looking at him, which by the way was weird, but his whole sign language thing and the interpreter were distracting considering he always sat in the back of the room. He really had no choice but to notice those things.

Jack turned his head with a questioning look while Brock continued standing there like an idiot, and his interpreter was quick to explain the situation, a slow nod of understanding sinking through him. What Brock wasn’t ready for was the small smile he got when Jack’s head tilted his way again, and then his hand came out in a sort of greeting while Brock was stuck frozen and staring at it.

*****

Brock thought that being a deaf kid in a regular class would be hard, he figured it was completely impossible to have a conversation with a person who didn't know sign language, especially when a couple of weeks passed and Jack’s interpreter was coming in with him less and less until he stopped coming at all. There was always someone on call for the teachers and for Jack and all the other special needs kids, but Jack seemed okay and got the hang of things without assistance. 

Brock also thought being able to relate to hearing classmates would have been an awkward game of hand gestures and missed words. But contrary to all of his assumptions and confusion, Jack actually managed to do assignments and classroom work just fine. Sure communication was spotty sometimes but he got by, got comfortable enough to touch shoulders and reroute eyes so he could see people’s mouths, and was patient with understanding what some odd gestures were and there were always chances to write down notes on paper. If he had an issue, Jack was even able to bring it up teachers from what he saw with Professor Xavier, as well as some others, who always seemed to know exactly what the issue was immediately with a fix for it.

It also seemed like every time there was a partner project, he was assigned to be paired with Jack, as if fate was out to get him. Eventually he didn’t mind as much and they mostly spent their time talking through notes, finding it the easiest way. Though it slowly began to feel like one of the only times Brock felt embarrassed of his ugly chicken scratch writing in comparison to Jack’s neat printing. 

Not that it seemed to bug him anyway, Jack would only read it like he didn’t have to decipher it. If not that, he would talk to Brock by looking up to make sure he was still turned his way, or lightly touch his shoulder, to gain back his attention and then he would give him a nod, and maybe a little smile if a note back wasn’t necessary. The system was pretty idiot-proof for Brock to screw up.

Their system was specially good when Brock would have an idea for their project, and Jack would always give him a thumbs up that made his stomach feel weird. Always underneath Brock’s idea proposal were five simple words that he never got tired of seeing:

_ Great idea. Let’s do that. _

*****

While it wasn’t like they didn’t have their own lives outside of school, they started to hang out together enough for Steve to make fun of him about it and call them inseparable. It was more of a joke at Brock’s expense than anything, which wasn’t fair since he had Bucky Barnes and they couldn’t wipe their own asses without the other somewhere closeby. Jack wasn’t like  _ that _ with him, he always had to carry a phone around for emergencies at home, and sometimes he would leave right after school without barely even a goodbye. He had foster siblings, besides Clint, and sometimes he had to go get them, or go home to babysit he told him once. 

Sometimes Brock found it annoying, how he dropped things to run off, especially when they were trying to work on their project in the library But it was what it was and Steve could only tell him he had a lot of responsibilities at home, cryptic about crap as he usually was when he felt like saying more was an invasion of privacy. And  _ that _ was annoying too.

It was just that he and Jack were friends with a relationship different from anything Brock had ever had before. Their conversations were never as one-sided as it sounded because no one else could see the way Jack would give him expressions and looks that seemed to replace the need to have a complete sentence. Both he and Jack always had paper and a pencil or pen on hand to be able to throw each other quick messages, and for when Jack needed to articulate why it would be a bad idea for Brock to suddenly  _ not _ do some impulsive idea he drummed up, Jack would only shake his head and draw a finger across his throat like it was getting slit which meant a lot more to Brock than anyone would ever know. It always made him snort at times, or just grin like an idiot but knew it was the equivalent to  _ ‘Don’t be a dumbass.’ _ and Brock was delighted by it. Nothing else needed to be said and it was great that way.

*****

As time went on, Brock slowly found himself immersed into Jack’s world. He learned that Jack wasn’t just able to read lips in front of him, but could relay bits of conversation from across the room. He finds that Jack has a higher reading comprehension than the kids in grade twelve because he’s read a lot of books Brock couldn’t even fathom holding and that’s kind of amazing. His favourite are murder mysteries and crime, but he also liked horror. Jack especially enjoyed horror  _ movies _ and loved to go out and see them once theatres got with the program of having a closed caption viewing system put in. He loves pizza as much as Brock does and that Clint is the only one in his adoptive family that also goes to this school, that he has three more siblings but two are in elementary and one is home schooled. That his youngest brother TJ is his favourite. 

At lunch, Brock doesn’t generally sit with anyone except maybe sometimes Steve if he was around, but since being friends with Jack, he joined the table where Clint and a few other kids he kind of knew sat at. Steve began to hang out there too as did Bucky Barnes. A lot of them signed and spoke together with their hand gestures so it was easy for Brock and Jack both to follow, yet it still kept reminding Brock that even if that was all fine and well, he still ended up being a burden to Jack by forcing him to use slowly handwritten messages. Not that Jack had ever complained, still though, Brock kind of regretted not putting in the effort before and from then on decided to rectify it.

When he felt more comfortable, he made the grand gesture to show Jack by signing  _ nice shirt  _ to him the moment he walked into homeroom. Jack's eyes widened and Brock instantly felt nervous again, quickly writing down that he was still learning the basics so if he said something wrong he was sorry. Jack only smiled as he read his note and Brock’s was stomach hurting again a little like it had been on and off, he signed something back and even though Brock was still a novice over everything having to do with ASL, he knew what that meant already, feeling himself relax while his face felt warm.

_ Thank you. _

*****

Brock couldn’t help feeling a little proud of himself over learning sign language, he and Jack used less pen and paper and more hands. He was so proud, that he badgered Steve to help him learn it faster, that besides the online class he was taking, it was an extra bonus to have a friend who was patient enough to back all his hard work up. 

It had been around eight months since Brock had met Jack and he was already unsure of what to do a week into summer break. He tried to convince Steve to hang out because Jack had to babysit TJ and take him to a doctor’s appointment today. It wasn’t like he couldn’t entertain himself, his old man left for the weekend and he was stuck by himself. It was just that no one was around to come over and when Steve began teasing him about being attached to Jack’s hip, he didn’t feel like talking to him anymore. 

He was a little sore about TJ taking more and more of Jack’s time lately. It wasn’t like Jack was avoiding him, he really did stay home to play with his brother, or take him out somewhere, or drop everything they were doing together just at the first text from his brother. It just made him sore about things and while he knew he was being selfish, he couldn’t help himself.

With no one around, he spent his day watching daytime television on mute with closed captioning on and sign instead of talking at whatever inanimate object was pissing him off that day. It was just to brush up on his skills and nothing else.

Steve called him back around dinner to make some plans for tomorrow and Brock stared up at the ceiling while his friend rambled on about how great Bucky was with that new prosthetic arm he got made and learning guitar with it. 

“He’s still wondering about when you’ll ask Jack out.” Steve prodded, and Brock could only make a noise that he was listening but not going to comment. Bucky was always advocating they date, even when Brock thought Jack was brand new and weird, he stopped listening to him a long time ago because sometimes Barnes made absolutely no sense.

“You get what he’s saying, right Brock?” Steve insisted, because if anyone advocated for Bucky it was Steve, while Brock was digging his big toe into his other sock to get it off his foot. “I mean, even I’m saying it. He’s suddenly the most important person to you, it’s nice. You learned a whole new language just for him.”

That got Brock’s attention. One sock fell off, the other still on his foot half way as he pulled himself to sit up. He’d never really thought about it like that, and that whenever he thinks about Jack, after the hiccup of not knowing him and being ignorant about things, he hadn’t felt happy or excited around someone like this before. Jack made him want to be a better person in ways he really didn’t think about before he showed up, and that weird churn of his stomach only happened when Jack smiled his way.

It hit him like a bucket of cold water being thrown on him. He had feelings for Jack and he was too dumb to notice it. Oh God, welcome to a whole mess of new problems.

*****

“Hey, Brock.”

Brock looked up from his comic book to see Clint stepping in through the glass doors of the store, a golden retriever with only one eye trying to worm his way inside too but one gesture caused him to sit still. It must have been Lucky.

“Hey Barton.”

“Your boyfriend’s looking for you, did you forget your phone?”

Brock’s brows shot up, his hand immediately going to his jeans pocket only to find that he did leave it at home. Shit. 

Wait, boyfriend?

“Are ya talkin’ about Jack?”

Clint rolled his eyes, picking out some soft drinks from the mini fridge next to the register after grabbing a few comics from the new release rack. “Obviously, who else would I be talking about?”

Brock bristled, but he didn’t push it. “So why’s Jack lookin’ fer me?”

“He’s at the park, me and Lucky are gonna meet up with him, I think he was going to ask you to join us. You wanna come with?” Barton paid for his things, watching the drinks get bagged up but he didn’t even bother hiding the asshole grin he had.

“Yeah..” Brock rubbed the back of his neck, trying to temper the need to get all defensive. “I guess.”

“Uh huh. Well then let’s go.”

It didn’t take too long to walk to the park, they were still a distance away from where they were headed at the place, but Brock could easily see Jack’s familiar back to them, stooped a little as usual and sitting on a blanket next to some boy with wavy, semi-curly brown hair. Now that he really knew how he felt, he felt that pang of jealousy hit him when he watched the person lean in closer to Jack, but he seemed younger and he knew he was just overreacting to clearly nothing. 

Jack had pulled out some small packets of food wrapped in tin foil from a plastic bag and opened one to reveal a child sized quesadilla he then set on a paper plate. He took out a bowl container right after to spoon out some spaghetti out next to it and while it may have seemed like a weird combo to Brock, Jack’s company definitely didn’t think so. 

The person smiled at him, rummaging in the bag for a fork.

Clint unclasped Lucky’s leash and let him jog ahead to surprise the two, the dog running at top speed just before easily stopping himself from colliding with them and coming around to the kid first, hand already reaching out to pet him. 

“That’s TJ.” Clint explained, as he walked a bit faster and Brock glanced his way, then ahead of them again. “You know, the brother you keep getting grumpy about.”

“I don’t get grumpy.” Brock frowned, but Clint was smiling. “Why would I be grumpy?”

“Everyone knows you get grumpy whenever Jack has to go be with him. You’re not subtle.”

It only made Brock feel more grumpy, opening his mouth to say something but he stopped when Clint shook his head. 

“And no, Jack has no idea.”

Well, at least that was a relief.

As they rounded the blanket, TJ looked up at Clint with a bright smile before looking his way and giving him a small wave with the hand holding his fork. 

“Hi, Brock!”

Startled, Brock didn’t know what to say back. “Uh..”

Jack suddenly looked panicked and Clint stepped in, dropping down to grab one of the foil packets. “We showed them your face in the yearbook, he wanted to know who Jack’s friend Brock was. And since he knows who you are, now you know who he is, this is Teej.” 

“Oh.” Brock wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or alarmed, but took the last spot vacant while Jack held out a paper plate for him. “Hi TJ.” 

TJ didn’t seem to notice the smear of pasta sauce at the corner of his mouth as he smiled back at him and went back to his food despite a napkin sitting on his thigh. Clint made a reach for the mini cupcakes and Brock warred between pointing the sauce out or keeping quiet. Jack already seemed to be used to it, picking up his own napkin to wipe his brother’s face and sign to him about being clean before talking.

“Sorry Jackie.”

Brock watched in silence as TJ missed his mouth and rubbed the back of his hand against his nose, then tried again, eyes looking a little sleepy and Clint peeled the wax paper off the cupcake, holding it out for TJ to take with a grin, watching him light up.

“Must have taken his meds.” Clint murmured and shoved a slice of cold pizza and a mini quesadilla onto Brock’s paper plate. 

Brock didn’t want to ask, so he didn’t. Instead he reached into the plastic bag for a soda and began eating while avoiding looking Jack and TJ’s way.

“TJ’s got a learning disability, we’re all a clan of ragtag special needs kids.” Clint boasted jokingly, but his smile towards his sibling was fond and Brock felt his first instinct to be embarrassed for Clint’s lack of filter eased away.

Jack rolled his eyes and threw a blueberry at Clint and TJ laughed. Brock knew their whole household was pretty cool, he’d always wanted to visit, but Jack had never tried to invite him over. Their dad was someone named Nick, who was a single parent or something and wasn’t as grumpy or angry as some of the other kids described him as. Jack and Clint never had a bad thing to say about him, it was always the opposite and that Nick used to be a CPS agent or something before he left to work from home.

“He looks cold.” Clint signed while saying it out loud at the same time from habit alone, and Brock realized TJ looked like a sleepy kitten to him. It was odd, how fitting it was and he was really stuck to that thought now.

Jack gestured to the coat sitting closer to Clint than to him and Brock watched him drape it around TJ’s shoulders, carefully fitting his arms into the sleeves despite how warm Brock was feeling with the sun shining overhead. Jack took over with feeding the last remnants of food TJ had left, getting him to have one last bite before tucking the paper plate away into the trash bag, his brother using the opportunity to curl closer against him. 

“The new meds he’s had to start taking are pretty strong, so they wear him out. It’s supposed to be something he gets over though and just means he gets to nap in the afternoons, I’d love to nap in the afternoon.”

“Ya do nap in the afternoons.” Brock pointed out, watching Jack press a kiss into TJ’s hair. “All the damn time in class.” 

“Not always, just most times. Plus I get nagged for it, not the same.” 

Jack only shook his head, signing  _ lazy _ Clint’s way with a smile and Clint stuck his tongue out at him. Brock finally got what TJ meant to Jack, and from the way he was getting sneaky glances from his best friend it seemed as if he was making sure he understood. It felt nice Jack cared that much, to explain even if he really didn’t have to. It was none of Brock’s business, but Jack wanted it to be and that was something else.

The whole thing was sweet really, Brock let himself think about it between bites of his crust. These were all special kids that needed a family and here, they all seemed to work well together, even Jack. Well, Jack was the greatest out of the bunch, Brock figured that one out early. Nowadays that realization was a bit harder to deal with, but he wouldn’t trade it in for anything.

*****

They were watching the stars tonight, sprawled out against the hood of the station wagon Jack borrowed occasionally. It was a few days after the little picnic thing and meeting TJ thing, and all Brock could think about was how much he wanted to be closer to Jack, spend more time with him than they already were. He supposed it wasn’t the best idea, considering they were parked at a look out point and if Jack didn’t feel the same way, they would be stuck in a small tension filled space all the way back to his house.

As far as strong impulses went though, Brock was kind of terrible at controlling himself and he couldn’t think of anything but getting Jack’s attention with a soft poke to his ribs after stealing a sidelong glance at Jack’s lanky frame, his arms tucked under his head and a small smile across his lips.

Jack turned his head over his way and waited, brows up a little in curiosity.

“We’re best friends, right?”

He didn’t mean to blurt it out like that, he just..couldn’t help himself.

Jack looked at him like he usually did when he messed up, or thought he did, like he was a dork because the answer was so obvious. 

_ “Yes, we are best friends, Brock. Why?” _

Brock fiddled with his cell, tapping it across his thigh nervously as Jack’s complete attention turned his way. It took Jack gently stealing his phone to sort of continue, leaving himself open for Brock to grab it back if he desired to. He didn’t, but he couldn’t look at Jack’s face, his eyes sweeping towards his shoes, one lace almost undone. 

Jack lightly poked him back and before he could pull away, Brock reached to touch that hand, gingerly brushing his fingers along until they curled around to hold it. Jack’s confused expression almost made Brock laugh, out of nervousness or out of amusement, he wasn’t sure yet. 

He twisted his body to partially face Jack and sign while simultaneously saying each individual word in a slow purposeful way. 

_ I wanted to- I mean.. No, okay. Jack, I like you. _

Brock practiced saying what he wanted to say many times just to make sure he didn’t mess up, and yet he still managed to fumble his words. He cursed himself mentally and frowned, dropping his eyes away but holding firm to Jack’s hand.

Jack didn’t react, though Brock could feel eyes on him. When he finally gathered enough courage to look up again and he wasn’t sure what he was looking at. Jack’s expression wasn’t betraying a hint of emotion and it confused the hell out of Brock, unsure of what that actually meant.

After an eternity Jack finally made one simple gesture. 

_ Really? _

Brock stared at him for a long moment and realized the hints of surprise finally seeping across Jack’s face and of  _ course _ Jack would want confirmation on Brock’s confession. He simply let their fingers tangle together and Jack seemed to study him, process it before he got it and tightened their hold. 

They decided to stay like that, sprawled across the hood of the station wagon watching the stars and holding hands. For Brock it was the best feeling in the world.

Jack proposed ice cream eventually and while it was something they’d usually do when they hung out together, now everything seemed better with Jack holding his hand. Jack was even bold enough, as they parked and headed inside, to wrap an arm around Brock’s shoulders and it was all so awkward but exciting.

Natasha was there, working at the front, a sharp brow going up at the two of them and before Brock could comment, Jack was signing towards her after placing some money down.

_ “Two fudgesicles please.”  _

Sharply turning Jack’s way, Brock had talked about getting a scoop of chocolate chip and mint in a waffle cone, not a popsicle, but Natasha was gone in a flash and Jack was smiling slightly, like he was suddenly nervous as he turned away from the counter to look at him.

_ “I should pay you back.” _

Brock furrowed his brows. “Fer what?”

_ “Your popsicle, I stole it to get your attention..” _ Jack's face shifted with a pull of his mouth.  _ “But then I moved.”  _

It took a long process for Brock to realize what Jack was talking about, Natasha back with their fudgesicles and Jack guiding him out the door for a little walk at the park across the street after giving Natasha a wave. Before Brock stepped onto the crosswalk, it struck him. “You stole my ice pop!”

They faced each other and Jack nodded.  _ “Sorry.” _

Brock lightly punched him in the arm because he couldn’t help himself and Jack took it good-naturedly. “You were tryin’ to get my attention? I spent all this time hatin’ disabled people because of you!” 

Jack’s brows shot up in surprise and then suddenly, he was laughing, a wheezed pitch he couldn’t help sometimes and Brock easily followed after.

It was then that Jack planted a small kiss on his mouth out of nowhere and Brock only grabbed him by his shirt to keep him there. It only became deeper as Jack tried his best to lean in while his hands were full of fudgesicle. The best part of it was when Brock could feel Jack mouth his name into the kiss and it made his stomach twist, his arms going around his neck in response.

When they finally drew away, Brock was grinning like an idiot and he could tell by the way Jack was looking at him that he was feeling the exact same way. Jack moved his head to press a kiss to Brock’s nose and then mouthed words that had no sound but were loud and clear.

_ I like you too. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thinking too much about Starfucker's Golden Light track


End file.
